lungs
by gadarene
Summary: and it's with this pair of cracked and breathless and smoke-filled lungs that a question is asked. the question is no longer whether you love her or not, but if she loves you. rated t, warnings for alcohol/recreational drug-use, cigarettes, language/cursing


**_lungs_**

**"**no light, no light in your bright blue eyes  
i never knew daylight could be so violent  
a revelation in the light of day  
you can't choose what stays and what fades away**"**

-florence and the machine (no light, no light)

* * *

It's kind of an accident when he meets her, but not quite- _just a desperate grasp away_ _and_

He reminds himself that it wasn't really an accident, since Annabeth invited both of them, but he feels like he should consider it one. Maybe it's déjà vu or something, but Percy doesn't believe in shit like that, or anything remotely close fate.

But afterwards, he starts to doubt himself.

* * *

He shouldn't be at this party. That's the first thing that comes to mind when he enters Annabeth's house, and he breathes in smoke (whether from the fog machine in the corner or something else, _he doesn't want to know_) and feels his heart thudding along to the bass of some shitty song.

"Percyyyy," he hears in his ear, and turns around-there's Annabeth. His former girlfriend smiles drunkenly at the sight of him and sweeps him into a lopsided hug-he can smell the alcohol on her, sharp and cutting into his nose. He smiles back affectionately and sort of strokes her hair for a moment; their relationship went much farther than romance. She's funny when she's drunk, he thinks idly, her blond hair tumbling wildly around her shoulders.

"I'm so glad you came!" she exclaims, words slurring melodically. "Was afraid you 'udnt show up."

"Of course I would!" he fakes a smile and swings her around as she lets out a string of giggles-_oh, God, she's so drunk right now_.

"I have someone I want Percy tuh meet!" her words squeal a little at the end, but the sentence is clear, commanding. She wraps her hands around his wrists and drags him through hoards of people, skillfully weaving in and out of throngs of intoxicated teens dancing and groping and talking too loudly as _happiness spills out of their mouths like champagne down glass_

Eventually she leads him to a room, and the people there are exhaling sweet, sickly perfume that twists up and dances away from their parted lips, and quiet guitar strums in the background. The mood is relaxed, lethargic, like everyone is swimming and drifting under water but never, ever drowning, a perpetual twilight and an eternal postponement. A joint is shoved into Percy's hand and he lifts it to his lips, taking a drag off of it and feeling the masochistic burn in his lungs before exhaling in a cloud of smoke that seeps and curls around his head. His lips twitch up into a half smile.

Before he can return the joint, Annabeth drags him to where a group of people are sitting in a circle, all watching a girl with long, blonde hair blow smoke rings, lazy enthusiasm gracing their faces.

"Guys," Annabeth says, "This is my friend, Percy. Percy, these are the best people you will ever meet." There are a few scattered, lazy laughs at her comment, and a few people acknowledge Percy.

"Doubtful," a voice says, and Percy turns to look at her, "If were the best people he'll ever meet, well, the rest of his life isn't looking too fucking good."

Percy chokes a little when he sees her, maybe because of how skinny she is, maybe because of how her piercing blue eyes are dilated scarily and outlined with a shit ton of smudged black eyeliner, maybe because of her tons of piercings and her long black hair-he doesn't know. Either way he thinks she may be just about the most strangely beautiful person he's ever seen.

"The fuck are you looking at," the girl snaps, ripping the joint out of his hand and taking a long drag, exhaling slowly. Smoke trickles out of the corners of her mouth before she pretentiously blows a smoke ring into his face.

"Thalia, be nice," Annabeth singsongs, her pupils blown. "This is Percy Jackson, my-"

"Ex-boyfriend," Thalia finishes. Her menacing eyes lock on to his and it feels like ice stroking down his spine. "Annie never shuts up about you. I'm Thalia Grace. I'd say it's great to meet you, but it really fucking hasn't been."

"You're kind of a bitch, aren't you?" Percy snaps, eyebrows furrowing and almost at a loss for words.

She looks surprised and hurt for not even a millisecond before she throws him the nastiest look he's ever seen. With surprising speed (especially considering her intoxicated condition), the girl gets to her feet, uttering a quiet "fuck it."

"Bye, Annie," she says carelessly, not even meeting Percy's eyes, and he feels oddly offended. He frowns gently when he hears the door slam behind her.

"You should really go after her," Annabeth mutters quietly, her words strangely lucid. She stares him down.

"I barely know her! And in case you weren't just listening, she was being really fucking rude to me, and I just met her, too," Percy said hotly.

Annabeth shrugs. "That's just how Thalia is. Now go." She gives him a little push, and Percy can't argue with her.

* * *

She's standing outside Annabeth's house at the street corner when he finds her. He stands awkwardly, hands shoved in pockets, and watches her black-painted nails fumble while she flicks a lighter on. She cups her hand around the small flame and quickly lights a cigarette. Thalia inhales the smoke and sighs it back out. Her eyes meet his coldly.

"What," she says sharply, holding the cigarette in between two of her slender fingers, and it's not even a question.

"I'm sorry. For calling you a bitch," Percy says, rather ungracefully. He grimaces slightly.

She shrugs. His eyes trace her left collarbone, exposed due to her oversized, dark sweater slipping. She watches him with a small smirk and tugs it back up, letting out something like a snort when Percy's eyes snap away hurriedly and he blushes. "Okay."

"What?" Percy snaps out of his stupor.

"Okay. You're forgiven." Thalia's tone is almost condescending. "Sorry for being a bitch."

Two can play at this game.

"Okay," Percy smiles slowly.

They stand at that corner for awhile, and Percy watches smoke unfurl out of Thalia's lungs like birds spreading their wings. He watches the dying embers throw a gentle glow onto the freckles dotting her cheekbones and nose. He watches as she lets the cigarette fall to the ground and she grinds it in with her black combat boots.

"Want to go get a burger?"

He smiles, but it's almost completely dark and he doesn't know if she can even see it. "Yeah. Let's go."

* * *

So that's basically how they end up at some hole in the wall diner with cracked formica tables and tack red upholstery and grimy white and black tiles that line the floor. There's a greasy aroma in the air, but it smells like heaven and it's two a.m. and they are both ravenous.

They start by talking quietly, the conversation stunted sometimes, but by the time their burgers arrive, they are laughing until they are breathless, both of them feeding off of the other's energy. _They are unstoppable, invincible, they are beautiful and the world watches them with bated breath until it suffocates._ They are beautiful, even in this dingy diner, they are beautiful when they stumble outside hours later, they are beautiful when they are on a rooftop watching the pastel rays of the sun twisting into the dark.

She is beautiful, Percy decides, with the weak strains of sunlight illuminating the bridge of her nose just so. The dimple in her right cheek is beautiful, especially when she's tilting her head back while laughing. The one lock of hair continuously falling into her face even though she's pushed it back behind her ear hundreds of times is beautiful, especially when her pinches it and dangles it into her face.

She's beautiful when she's exhaling the smoke from the cigarette she just lit, _she is so beautiful she is gorgeous she is my sun and moon and stars and my broken hallelujah_

* * *

When Percy wakes up hours later, the midday sun burning into his eyes and a number scrawled on the inside of his wrist, still on the same building, he decides maybe he ought to rethink this fate thing.

* * *

**hello. it's been awhile since i last wrote fanfiction, so i decided to just create a brand new account. you can try to figure out who i was before if you want to.**

**so. perlia. my drug of an OTP. i hope you all enjoyed this, and there will definitely be a part two coming sometime**

**see you on the other side, lovelies**

* * *

**gadarene**


End file.
